The decree was read at dawn.
Not shouted.
Not announced with bells.
Pinned.
Every gate. Every council board. Every market arch where people gathered to read what power wanted them to know.
ROYAL DECREE
By order of Her Majesty Queen Seraphine, the following individuals are declared enemies of the crown.
A name followed.
Then another.
Princess Aelira Nyxvale.
Former Commander Kael Draven.
Rewards were listed. Titles revoked. Property seized. Any who aided them would be judged complicit.
No mention of blood.
No mention of murder.
Just law.
The news reached the forest camp by noon.
Jax was the one who brought it—breathing hard, eyes bright with a mix of excitement and disbelief. "They didn't even wait," he said, dropping the parchment. "You're officially… infamous."
Rook squinted at the decree. "Enemies of the crown," he read aloud. "That sounds expensive."
Lyra folded her arms. "It sounds permanent."
Kael took the parchment and read it once.
Then tore it cleanly in half.
"Good," he said.
Aelira watched him closely. "Good?"
"Yes," Kael replied. "Now the lie is complete. No more pretending this is misunderstanding."
Lyra nodded. "She's closing ranks."
"And drawing lines," Aelira added. "Forcing people to choose."
Rook grinned. "About time."
They moved before sunset.
The camp dissolved in practiced silence—no trace left behind but flattened grass and cold ash. They traveled light and fast, slipping along paths that never appeared on maps.
Aelira rode beside Kael now.
Not behind.
The forest thinned, giving way to a ridge overlooking a valley threaded with roads and villages—places where the decree would already be working.
"Some will believe it," Jax said quietly. "Fear's easier than truth."
"Yes," Aelira replied. "But not everyone."
Kael glanced at her. "You're counting on doubt."
"I'm counting on memory," she said. "People remember who punished them. Who fed them. Who listened."
Lyra smirked. "You're dangerous."
Aelira smiled faintly. "I'm patient."
They stopped at a ruined watchtower just before nightfall.
Rook tossed Aelira a canteen. "Rule one," he said cheerfully. "If you're wanted by the crown, you drink first."
She accepted it. "A generous rule."
Kael leaned against the stone, scanning the darkening horizon. "Scouts report patrols doubling along the southern roads."
"They'll expect us to run," Lyra said. "To scatter."
Aelira shook her head. "No. We stay close enough to be seen."
Kael turned. "Explain."
"She needs a clean enemy," Aelira said. "A threat that moves like she expects. If we disappear entirely, she'll turn the court inward."
"And if we don't?" Jax asked.
"Then," Aelira replied, eyes on the valley lights, "she keeps chasing us."
Rook whistled softly. "You're bait."
"Yes," Aelira said. "On purpose."
Kael studied her, tension tightening his jaw. "You're not doing this alone."
"I know," she replied gently.
Later, as watches were set and the night settled, Aelira stood at the tower's broken edge. Wind tugged at her cloak. Below, fires flickered—homes, taverns, lives continuing under a crown that had just named her a traitor.
Kael joined her.
"They'll hunt you," he said.
"They already are."
"They'll use your name to scare people."
She nodded. "Then we give them a better story."
He glanced at her. "Which is?"
"That the crown fears me," Aelira said calmly. "And fear spreads faster than decrees."
Silence stretched—then Kael smiled, small and fierce.
"You sound like a rebel queen."
Aelira looked at him. "You sound like you'll stand beside her."
He didn't hesitate. "I already am."
From below, a horn sounded—distant, searching.
The hunt had begun.
Aelira turned from the edge, eyes bright, pulse steady.
"Good," she said softly. "Let them come."
Because once the world called you an enemy—
You were free to become anything else.